


Spare

by Sazuka57



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Violence, kill all route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5178347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sazuka57/pseuds/Sazuka57
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk and Chara fight for control over Frisk's body during a crucial moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spare

**Spare**

_They’re good_ , he thought as he threw out another attack, _But I already knew that._

Taunt. Attack. Dodge. 

Kid didn’t look like they were getting tired, but he didn’t think he could keep it up much longer.

Taunt. Attack. 

He thought of Papyrus. He thought of how his brother saw something in that human shaped murderer, and wondered what it was. Could his brother see the person the kid used to be?

Dodge. Taunt. Attack.  
He thought back of when the kid first stepped out of the ruins, how they shook hands. Kid didn’t laugh.

Dodge. Taunt.

Should have known they were a bad apple from then, but he’d promised. He never made promises but he wound up making this promise anyways.

Attack. Dodge.

The door wasn’t locked behind the kid. He went into the ruins and left Papyrus to deal with the human. He didn’t find anyone inside. Just a lot of dust a room down.

Taunt. Attack.

He found a lot of dust on a red scarf when he went home. He never should have let Papyrus out of his sight.

Dodge.

This wasn’t right. This kid wasn’t right. He’d been through this loop so many times that he’d gotten used to feeling sunlight on his face for the few moments before he woke up back in his bed.

Taunt.

Something went wrong somewhere. Why?

Attack.

He remembered his first impression of them really well. First impressions always stuck around.

Dodge.

Kid was afraid. Apprehensive and afraid, but open minded. Kind hearted.

Taunt.

What changed?

Attack. Dodge.

This one came out angry. Scared and angry. 

Taunt. Attack. Dodge.

It devolved to murderous. It’s never happened before.

Taunt. Attack.

He was just so…tired.

“You, uh, really like swinging that thing around, huh?” He asked, barely dodging the next swipe. The kid hissed, but he was exhausted, and maybe, maybe he could buy himself a few minutes to catch his breath.

“Listen. I know you didn't answer me before, but...somewhere in there. I can feel it.” The kid was giving him the evil eye. “There's a glimmer of a good person inside of you.”

Something in the kid’s face…changed. It was a small twitch, but it was there. He pressed on.

“The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing.” There it was; that twitch again. “Someone who, in another time, might have even been...a friend?”

The twitch became a full faced convulsion. It went from fear to anger faster than he could process, but something was _there_. 

“C'mon, buddy. Do you remember me?” He asked. They looked like they were inside of their own head; a look between disgust and anger painted all over their face.

“Please, if you're listening...let's forget all this, ok?” He tried to take a step forward; to go for the knife, but the kid jabbed it in his general direction and he backed down. 

“Just lay down your weapon,” He said softly, “and...”

He trailed off. The kid wasn’t really listening anymore. They were snarling angrily, making all sorts of unnatural noises. There was something going on inside their head, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

“C’mon, buddy.” He found himself whispering, “C’mon, pal.”

The kid had shifted their head when their hands flew into their hair, still clutching that horrible knife. He leaned in to try and see what was going on—

The kid screeched. They lashed out. The knife was coming right at his head and he didn’t dodge— _couldn’t_ dodge—didn’t see it coming—couldn’t move out of the way fast enough—no _no **no NO**_ he was supposed to win— _had_ to win— _ **Papyrus**_ — 

The knife clattered on the ground, and he let out a shaky breath as he stared at it.

“Sans!” The kid moaned. He looked up to the kid and drew himself back in surprise. 

Those were tears.

“Sans!” The kid cried out. 

“Buddy?” He asked, breathless.

“Kill me!!!” The kid screamed, “Kill me! Kill me! Before I go away again!”

“What…”

“Kill me!!!”

The kid’s hands flew to their face. They screamed. They cried. Then they took their hands away and he saw the intent of murder flash in their eyes—

He didn’t remember picking up the knife. He didn’t remember plunging it right through the middle of the kid’s chest. All he saw was murder, and then blood.

Hissing and writhing, the kid fell to the ground. They snarled at him, screamed in fury, clawed their fleshy hands in his direction…and then stopped.

With a final hiss, the evil around the human was gone. It had disappeared so suddenly, that he almost doubted it was there to start with. All that was left behind was a sad, scared, crying little kid.

“Sans,” They cried, “Sans.”

“Buddy?” He asked.

“Sans,” They sniffled, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey...” He said softly. He finally let down his guard and approached the kid. “What happened?”

“I was sad. I was so sad, and then I got so angry. The frog jumped out of nowhere. I screamed and hit it. It died. I cried. They started taking over.”

“Buddy…”

“They made me do the worst things. I hurt my friends. I kept crying. They yelled at me. They were so scary.”

“….Frisk…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He was watching his friend dying on the ground. They were sad, scared, and wracked with guilt.

He wished Papyrus was here. He wasn’t any good with comforting someone.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He knelt down next to the kid and brushed their hair out of their face. “It’ll be okay. You’ll make it okay.”

“They’ll come back.” They whimpered. 

“I won’t let them.”

“I’m scared.” 

“I’m here.”

“Take…take my soul. Please. Please don’t let them come back. Please.”

“They won’t.”

“Promise?” More whimpering. More promises. 

Comfort. Comfort was what his friend needed now.

“I promise.”

Their crying slowed down, and soon came to a stop. All the while, he kept petting their head. He didn’t know what else to do.

“It’s cold.” They whispered.

“Could you say that you’re chilled to the bone?” He tried, but there was no response.

“I’m sleepy.” Famous last words.

“Then sleep.”

There was no reply, as their breath evened out, and then stopped altogether. He could see the red manifestation of his friend’s soul leave its body and hover there, and he hesitated.

Was it his to keep? 

Could he really make that choice?

He looked down at the kid in front of him, and made up his mind.


End file.
